Tear In Your Heart
by silversoul-snow
Summary: The aftermath of an argument - of the broken and the healer. Dean wasn't sure how much more he could take.
**Note: This was actually written for my GCSE English paper, with the prompt: Write a story which ends with some sort of confession.**

 **Of course it's what binge-watching Supernatural episodes the night before does to before. Original version submitted for the exam didn't have their names and specific details but the plot was there haha.**

 **Disclaimer: There would be significantly less deaths and lots of gay couples and Wincestiel/Destiel/Wincest moments going around if SPN was mine.**

* * *

It had started small.

A misplaced comment or something similar. Nothing major.

In fact, he could not even remember the reason for their argument, or whether they were even arguing in the first place. That did not matter though. All that mattered was a man left kneeling in a wreckage of a room, feeling as broken as his surroundings. The words were still ringing in his ears, leaving him feeling like he had just been sucker-punched.

He knew better than anyone else that words said in a fight should always be taken with a pinch of salt. Yet he also knew that the truth had always been there, crawling under the other's skin until given an outlet. And the victim was left feeling the same way he did four years ago, watching his younger brother walk out of the door without looking back once. But maybe now the hole in his soul was hollower than ever since he had gotten a taste of what he had been missing all along.

 _'I would rather be anywhere than here with you.'_

True, there were other words that had been said but that was the one sentence that had hit him the hardest. Sammy. The kid brother that he had brought up. He had watched him grow up from a young toddler waddling around with pants around his ankles to a full grown man whose shoulders had filled out and no longer looked like a gangly awkward teenager. That was always how things had been, just two brothers. Together. Alone.

It had been that way since Mary died in that fire, leaving John to throw himself into the family business to hide from his grief and two young boys to fend for themselves. And now, to learn that that very same baby brother hated him.

Blankly, he stood up, knees screaming from kneeling in the same position for a long time. He dully noted that the mess needed to be cleaned up, but could not find any energy to do so. The motel room was eerily quiet, since the last… three? four? hours ago. Casting a glance at the clock on the wall, he grimaced slightly. It had only been an hour since the other male stormed out of the house. Had it only been that short? It certainly felt like an eternity to him.

The motel room was cold. Distant. It wasn't home. Home was in the Impala with Sam arguing with him over what music to be played. That was home. A motel room wasn't home. An apartment wasn't home. Impala wasn't home without Sam being there. Just like how it hadn't been home for the past four years before Sam came back into his life.

He trudged listlessly to the bed, falling into it with a _'whoof'_. Let the mess be. They were all the same after all. Broken and shattered.

He should never have dragged him out of Stanford to search for John. His smart, nerdy, geeky baby brother who had managed to score a scholarship in Stanford of all places. All expense paid. He remembered that night as clear as ever - a huge shouting match between Sam and Dad, the most intense that they ever had. Dean had stayed out of it, not wanting to be dragged in. He understood where his dad was coming from. It was unnerving for Sam to be out of their sight. True he had left for missions in the past without his two sons but he always knew that Dean would be there to look after Sam.

But now, Sam would be miles away in a campus that Dean had no access to. And that didn't sit well with either of them. Yet at the same time, Dean wished for his brother to get out of the hunter's life and be safe. Though he wasn't exactly sure whether getting out of the hunter life and being out of _his_ sight was exclusive. Sam himself had wanted a 'better' life and now that the opportunity had presented itself to him, he sure as hell wasn't going to give it up.

So Dean did understand where both of them were coming up. He himself had dropped out of high school to help John with hunting, just like his father had wanted. _Just like the perfect son._ They had left Sam alone for four years. Of course Dean wouldn't admit to anyone that there were times where he chose cases near the university just so he could check on his younger brother. However, the circumstances of Dad disappearing had driven him back to ask his younger brother for help and come back to their old life. It had taken lots of effort to persuade Sam to stay with him. For the entire three months they had been together, the fear that Sam would just walk out on him one day stayed with him throughout.

There was the incident with Dr. Ellicott in the deserted Roosevelt Asylum. And the falling out they had on the road after that incident. But they had managed to get through it and talk it all out. Or at least, that was what he had though.

Apparently not.

His fear came true tonight. To find out that his brother would rather be back in Stanford. Elsewhere but here. Blaming Dean for deriving him of his opportunities. Hating him. The last he could barely bring himself to accept.

"Dean?" A voice called out and he tensed, burying himself further in the pillows. He hadn't even heard the front door open. A demon could have even waltzed in with guns blazing and he wouldn't have noticed. A testimony to how shaken he was thanks to Sam's words.

The creak of the door was audible in the silence and footsteps came closer to the bed. A dent in the mattress indicated that a heavy weight had been placed on it and he could feel heat radiating off the body next to him.

Stubbornly, Dean tuned his head away from his younger brother. He was all too aware that he was acting like a child but after all that he had been through, he felt that he had a right to.

A sigh. Then a shuffling sound was heard. The other male must have been playing with the sheets due to nerves. Sometimes, he hated how well he knew his brother.

"Listen man. Those… Those things I said? I didn't mean them."

Huh. So they were talking about it.

"It's fine. Forget it." He muttered from beneath his pillow.

He could hear another sigh from Sam.

"Dean, you know we have to talk about this. Please. We can't just stop and pretend that it didn't happen."

Oh yes they could. They could just got on with life pretending that this entire row had never occured in the first place.

Dean had wanted to avoid the topic as much as possible. It just wasn't in his nature to talk about feelings, unlike his kid brother. To have one one of those chic flick moments which Sam loved. But for both their sakes, they had to this time. He knew that. It didn't mean he liked it though. This wasn't one of those problems where they could sweep under the rug like they used to. It would either make or break their relationship. Not exactly a hard feat seeing how it's simply just hanging on by a thin thread now.

It was time to address the proverbial elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry Dean. You know how I get during fights."

"What do you want me to say, Sam?" He turned his head tiredly and sat up, watching his brother wince at the use of his actual name. Over the past 3 months, he had taken to calling him ' _Sammy_ ', making up for all those lost time during the 4 years.

"That it's all okay? Because I get it. You don't want to be here. Don't want to do this or to be here with me. Yeah, I do get it, despite being _dumb and stupid_."

Sam swallowed. "I didn't mean it. You aren't dumb - " He started, only to be cut off by his brother.

"No. Listen to me. You've said your piece. So I'm going to say mine. I hated you, you know. The fact that you had walked out of the door, out of our lives without even turning back once to say goodbye. Sure there was the row with Dad and all. But four years, Sam? Four years? Four years of not even bothering to answer a simple phone call to tell us you are okay? Do you have any idea how worried Dad and I were? Not knowing whether you were alive and kicking? You left so easily then. What's to stop you from doing the same now?" Dean asked, pinning his brother with a hard stare.

There he had said it. All his insecurities. All those worries plaguing him for the past few months.

Sam knew that he had to tread cautiously here, but the answer came to him as easy as breathing.

"You." He answered simply, only to draw out a bitter caught from his elder brother. He cringed. Dean should never have to produce such a sound.

"ME? Your dumb brother? The idiot who dropped out of high school for a dumb family business? Who was 'daddy's little soldier' and followed orders to a fault? Who derived you of all your opportunities? Who you hate?"

"No! I don't hate you! I would never - "

"Do you know that I live in constant fear of you leaving?" Dean confessed, because why not? Since they were now talking about feelings and all that shit, he might as well as get it out into the open.

"I fear that one day I would wake up, and you would be gone. No note. No letter. No goodbye. Just like four years ago. And I would spend months searching for you, looking for you, only to finally realise that you wanted me out of your life. Because me, dumb big brother who had no future in front of him, wasn't good enough for you."

It took all that Sam had to hold back tears, and he could not even say that he had succeeded in that mission. He never knew that this was what had been going on through Dean's head every day. It must have been horrible.

"But I am still here, aren't I?" He tried.

"For how long more, Sammy? For how long more." Dean was tired. This entire emotional situation had sucked all energy out of him.

Hearing _that_ nickname come out of Dean's mouth gave him hope. There was still a chance to salvage their relationship.

Sam knew that no matter what he said, his older brother wouldn't listen. That stubborn older brother of his that he loved. He knew what he had to do. Prove it with his actions.

Reaching across, he dragged the other male into a hug, dropping a kiss on the other's head. Risky move, he knew, but the fact that Dean didn't pull away showed how much his brother needed it.

"For as long as you want me by your side. I'm sorry. I love you." He whispered to Dean before drawing away, knowing how much Dean disliked the chic-flick moments. He caught a slight surprise in the other's way before a half-smile tugged at his brother's lips. Sam knew that he had never said those three words to the other hunter since four years ago. He vowed to himself that he would say it as many times as he had to in the future to reassure his insecure brother. The same brother who was willing to die for him.

With the obstacles of talking about their feelings removed, they could continue on the road to healing now and come back stronger. More bonded than ever.

They would be alright


End file.
